


Everybody Hurts

by Belle_Evans



Category: due South
Genre: AU, Angst, Emotional Infidelity, M/M, Marriage, Violence, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2013-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 07:14:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belle_Evans/pseuds/Belle_Evans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are not their best selves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Now

**Author's Note:**

> As it says in the summary, the three are not making the best decisions here. I love Fraser, but I think he's a lot of still water running deep. This is a WIP, but I know how it ends. And a good deal of it is already written. Overall it's not going to be a very long fic. This part is essentially the teaser.

Detective Ray Vecchio fished the beeping phone out of the pocket of his suit jacket as he maneuvered the steering wheel one handed. Phone in hand he glanced quickly at the caller i.d. before flipping the phone open.

“Hey, I’m on my way in. I have two witness statements in the bag and the third one is scheduled for this afternoon. Yeah, what? I don’t understand, say that again. I don’t...where?”

The Detective snapped his phone closed and tossed it on the passenger seat as he gripped the steering wheel and flipped a tire squealing, rubber burning u-turn in the middle of the street. As he sped down the road, terrorizing the other drivers with his horn and flashing red light, the words from the other end of the phone rattled around in his head and continued to fail to make sense. _The Mountie is in custody._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vecchio makes a new friend?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to refrain from making any promises about next update because apparently that jinxes me. Sigh.

_**8 weeks earlier**_ r

 

Ray Vecchio was bellied pretty securely up to the bar in a working man's joint. In theory, he should have been home an hour ago, but he just...Lately he and his husband had been like ships passing in the night. Not like the old days at the two seven when they were hip to hip on cases whether Ray wanted to be or not. The detective took a sip of his bourbon. Not exactly top shelf, but it wasn't really about the alcohol. It was more about the space. He needed to be somewhere that wasn't home, wasn't a cop bar.

The time he spent working with a certain Canadian Constable and his time undercover as a Vegas mobster, bolstered his ability to make connections in ways he hadn't been able to before his life was turned upside down. The UC assignment left him with a reluctance to trust anyone except one man to have his back. He'd married that man which made it harder to get away with working with him, even informally. Even if that had been an option. In his absence, his best friend and current spouse had been tapped to work with a joint Canadian-American anti-terrorism unit with a fairly high profile comparatively speaking which required semi-regular travel to the Great White North. Ray's new expertise landed him on a special one man detail. He worked the cases he wanted, the way that he wanted while still offering the Feds his considered insight on underworld activity.

He had the trappings of living a dream he hadn't thought possible, yet...It was one thing to experience a certain disconnect undercover, that came with the territory. It was more than a little disconcerting to have it follow him home. He took another slow sip, considered the current state of his life.

 

The hand that stroked up his thigh, coming perilously close to the family jewels, almost made him do a spit take across the bar. "You lookin' for some company?" And that actually made Ray laugh at loud. He turned his head just enough to get a look at the owner of the voice and the errant hand.

"You're a little old to still be in the game. Or, what you wait until the tricks are so drunk they can't tell the difference. Newsflash, I ain't had that much to drink.

"I look like a pro to ya?"

There was a smile in the voice, amusement not anger. This time Ray turned all the way around and registered two things. The man's hand didn't move off his thigh and in spite of the unruly too young hair and too thin frame, there was something about the guy. It was easy for Vecchio to resist the urge to either punch him or badge him.

Nimble fingers were on the move again. "I don't remember saying yes."

"I didn't hear ya say no." Cocky. The Detective chuckled low in his throat and flashed his left hand in front of the other man.

"This enough no for you."  The hand withdrew immediately.

"Shit, sorry man."

"A pro would take that as encouragement to up their game."

“What d’ya know about pros. Oh wait, no... Are you shittin’ me?" The blonde squinted at Ray, gave him a head to groin up and down. “Huh.”

Ray sat back a little more on his stool. He gave the blond another once over. The other man's watchful demeanor said things to the Detective he didn’t think possible, but he took a shot.

“You on the job too?”

A brief flicker of something passed across the other man’s face.

“Use to be, use to be,” the blonde finally answered. He glanced down at a walking stick Ray hadn’t noticed propped against the bar.

“Got disabilitied out, work related.”

“Sorry man, lemme buy you a drink.”

A full, unrestrained smile greeted Vecchio's overture. “If you think I’m gonna tell you I don’t need your pity and refuse the drink you are sadly mistaken.”

“By all means,” Vecchio smirked as he watched the man motion eagerly for the bartender.


End file.
